Everything In Nature
by Unoriginality
Summary: The Barnes-Rogers household ends up with a temporary house guest, and Tony hates them both for it.


"Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a purpose." -Garrison Keillor

The only thing bad about going to the roof, particularly in the chillier weather, was that the concrete underneath him was cold, and blue jeans didn't do much to block it. Bucky was actually starting to regret his decision to go up there. While his long-sleeve shirt and light jacket kept the rest of him from feeling the bite in the air, his ass wasn't much protected until his body heat had a chance to warm up the spot he was sitting on.

He hadn't been up there in about a month, which he felt a little proud of himself for, as dumb as that seemed to him. But, as Steve pointed out, it meant that Bucky was handling the past better than he had when he'd first moved in with Steve and was spending every other day or so up there for hours on end.

That day wasn't even a big deal, he probably could've gone without going up at all, but he was still shaking off a queasy feeling in his stomach. He'd been rudely awoken that morning by falling out of bed, although that had at least woken him up from the nightmare he'd been having. Steve had tried to get him to talk about it, but there wasn't really anything to say. It'd been nothing but a constant sensation of falling, which always twisted up his insides. Nothing new, nothing that needed anything more than some time in the cool fall air until his brain could finish transitioning back into the present.

He let out a deep breath, watching the air condense into a thin fog that dissipated. Damnit, it was cold. Why the hell was it so cold? Oh, right, because it was late October. At least it was better than the summer; the heat from the sun on his left arm tended to conduct that heat right up to his port. It hadn't caused burns yet, but it'd made it uncomfortable.

Then again, with the winter came potential frostbite. He really needed to find a place that stayed a balmy seventy degrees with no humidity. He'd have to try to talk Steve into moving to this mythical paradise.

Bucky was just fixing to get up- his seat had finally warmed up, naturally, but the rest of him was getting cold -when something bumped against his hip. His first thought was a grenade based on the weight and size, and his instincts kicked in and he immediately rolled away from it, ending with his left side facing the potential explosive, with his mechanical arm bent up to protect his face from possible shrapnel.

But it wasn't a grenade, which, thinking about it once the adrenaline dropped, didn't surprise him. What it was, however, _did_ surprise him. The kitten that had walked into him was puffed up to what looked to be twice its size, back arched and hopping back. He blinked a couple times, relaxing and lowering his arm, before looking around for any sign of an owner.

There was clearly nobody up on the roof with him. How the cat had gotten up there, he couldn't imagine. He stood and walked over to the orange tabby that was still fluffed up. He'd obviously scared the shit out of it with his reaction to its introduction. The kitten flailed a bit when Bucky picked it up, then pressed itself against him, shivering. He realized it'd probably approached him because it was cold and he was a warm body.

Bucky didn't even need to question his decision to take it inside with him, tucking the kitten under his arm before heading back down the fire escape to his apartment window. "Steve, you got your laptop?" he asked as soon as he was in the apartment.

"I was just checking news," Steve said in response. "Why?"

Bucky turned around from shutting the window to see Steve with a cup of coffee that was still steaming and his laptop open in front of him. "Look up what human food is safe to give to a cat." He moved the tiny bundle of fur in his arm. "Someone on the roof found me."

Steve's eyebrows raised. "How did a cat get up on the roof?"

"No idea," Bucky said. "I'd guess one of the neighbors, but I'm not sure why they'd leave-" he cut himself off, flipping the kitten onto its back in his arms and examined the squirming animal for signs of what gender it might be, "-her up there."

While the kitten managed to get herself off her back and back into a shivering bundle in Bucky's arms, Steve looked back at his laptop, typing away. He scrolled, clicked, then stayed silent a moment. Bucky walked over to sit at his usual place at the table on Steve's left side.

Steve looked away from his computer to look at the cat, who was curled up in the crook of Bucky's arm and was probably barely visible to Steve. "Think she's old enough to eat solid food?"

Bucky managed to wrestle the kitten out of her hiding spot enough to get a good look at her. "I think so." The kitten made a pathetic squeaky noise that might've been a meow, then once again tried to burrow her way down between his arm and his chest as much as possible. "Hey," he said, adjusting his grip on her to keep her from slipping out from under his elbow and falling to the ground.

"It looks like we could probably give her some of that chicken salad we made for sandwiches," Steve said. "You get that, I'll go check with our neighbors, see if she belongs to anyone." He stood, leaving Bucky to handle the cat.

Bucky set her down on the table and got up, heading for the kitchen. He heard her make that pitiful noise again as he opened the fridge, and glanced over at her just in time to see her making ready to jump off the table. She didn't look big enough to make that jump without hurting herself. If there was ever a time to be grateful for his improved reflexes and speed that didn't involve him or Steve in mortal peril, that was it, as he sprinted the ten feet from the fridge to the table, catching the kitten just as she fell. "Jesus!" The kitten clung to his flesh arm, tiny claws digging into his skin past the jacket and shirt he wore. He adjusted his hold on her. "You are entirely too small to make that," he scolded her, then went back to the fridge with her in tow.

The kitten shied away from the fridge once he'd opened it, trying to once again disappear into the crook of his elbow. He grabbed the tupperware container with the chicken salad and deposited it on the counter. He poked around the cupboards, looking for something small enough to put some food in that she'd be able to eat out of, finally settling on a small plate that was really entirely too big for how little food he was going to put on it, but they didn't have much else that could be used.

He set the kitten down on the floor so he had his hands free to get her food, which proved to be a mistake when she started trying to climb his leg. He yelped- goddamn, kitten claws hurt like a bitch! He scowled down at her, then gave in and picked her back up. "I need another arm," he said, trying to scoop out a small tablespoon full of food onto the plate without dropping the kitten. He looked at her. "I have no idea how my mother managed to handle four human children. One fuzzy one is bad enough. And you aren't yelling in my ear like a cranky toddler. Thank you for that, by the way."

She responded by trying to lean out of Bucky's grip to get to the food. He had to juggle her and the food before managing to get her and the plate to the table. Bucky dropped both on the table, then went back into the kitchen to put the tupperware back in the fridge. He kept a paranoid eye out on the kitten, making sure she didn't try to wander off the table again, but she was intent on eating.

And talking around mouthfuls of food.

"Seriously, cat?" He shook his head, putting the chicken salad away. "Chew, then talk. You're as bad as Paul was." While she ate, it occurred to him to get her some water. He just hoped he wouldn't have to figure out how to set up an impromptu litter box, because they had precisely jack nothing that could even pretend to do that job.

Hopefully, Steve would find the kitten's owners before that became an issue.

The kitten had finished eating and was trying to play with Bucky's flesh fingers instead of letting him pet her when Steve came back. Bucky glanced back at him over his shoulder. "Any luck?"

Steve shook his head. "Nobody's claiming her. I can't figure out how she got up there if someone here didn't take her up, though."

Bucky looked back at the kitten, frowning. That just didn't make sense. There was no way a cat could get up on that roof without human help, unless someone was engineering flying cats or something stupid like that.

"Now what do we do?" he asked, looking at Steve again. "We're gone for weeks at a time sometimes, we can't keep a cat." Despite what he wanted. He was already growing fond of the little bundle of fluff; he'd always had a weak spot for cats. He used to spend his allowance buying cat food to give to the neighborhood strays, which annoyed his mother to no end. She liked cats well enough, but the strays tended to congregate en masse around the Barnes home because of Bucky's bleeding heart. But, she'd said, it was better than him spending his money on candy and getting sick on too much sugar.

Steve walked over and sat in his usual place, watching Bucky play with the kitten. "We could probably take her to a vet, see if she's chipped."

"Chipped?"

"Microchipped," Steve said. "They put a computer chip into the animal and register the owner's information to it so that if the pet goes missing, it can be returned to its home."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve. "And how do you know about this? You haven't been finding stray animals that I don't know about, have you?"

Steve shook his head. "No, I read it on Wiki. Don't remember how I got to that article."

"And you say I spend too much time on the internet."

"I spend time learning," Steve said. "You spend time trying to traumatize yourself and anyone around you."

Bucky decided to occupy himself with examining the kitten for signs of fleas or ear mites. "You act like that's something new," he said. "Besides, I'm usually looking at completely unrelated things and just get very unfortunate enough to find that shit."

"The hornet's nest?"

"That, you and Tony had coming," Bucky said. "Good news, I'm pretty sure she didn't invite fleas in."

Steve reached over and rubbed the kitten's ears. "That's a relief. Fleas are hard to get rid of."

"Yeah, I remember when you and your mom's apartment got infested," Bucky said. "We had to meet up in public because Mom didn't want one or the other of us dragging the damn things into our house."

Steve gave him a dirty look. "You remember that part, I remember being itchy all the damn time."

"If it makes you feel better," Bucky said, "I felt bad for you." He looked at the kitten, who'd rolled over onto her side for belly rubs and was purring loudly enough that Bucky probably could've heard her over headphones. "Now, the question. How are we going to transport her to the vet? We don't have a carrier."

"You'll have to hold her," Steve said.

Bucky stood. "You're never going to let me drive, are you?" he asked, scooping up the kitten and tucking her safely under his jacket, curled up on his arm. She protested a bit, but settled down when he started rubbing her whiskers.

"Nope," Steve said, grabbing his jacket and keys.

For the most part, the kitten- who Bucky was pointedly refusing to think of by a name, which given his inclination to name anything and everything in his life, was a difficult task -handled the car ride pretty well, although she cried a lot. She didn't flail around or try to get away, though, which meant no claws digging into Bucky. He called that a win.

Steve had found a vet that worked exclusively with cats, which Bucky hadn't realized was a thing in modern day, but it meant the kitten wouldn't be scared by larger animals like dogs, which reduced the chances of her clawing him up, trying to get away. Just because he could take an injury like a champ, didn't mean that kitten claws poking into his skin like tiny needles were exactly comfortable. So he didn't complain that the office was a bit farther away than whatever the closest one had been.

"So what do we do if she's not owned?" Bucky asked as Steve parked.

"I guess we take her to a shelter," Steve said, turning off the car and getting out. "She's a kitten, she'll get adopted."

Bucky frowned, locking the car up after getting out. "I'd rather adopt her myself," he said. He didn't entirely know of any standards or regulations on animal shelters in the modern day, but at least once upon a time, animals surrendered to shelters were put down without much hope for finding an owner.

That didn't sit well with him.

Steve looked at him. "Bucky, we can't have a pet, you said so yourself."

"Then I'll trick Tony into taking her," Bucky said, opening the door to the office, letting Steve go in first.

"Good luck with that," Steve said. He paused and looked at Bucky. "You're the one holding the cat, why are you holding the door for me?"

Bucky glanced down at the bundle of fur hiding just under his jacket, then looked up at Steve. "Habit," he said. "How about, instead of blocking the door, you go in and let me in?"

Steve shook his head, walking in ahead of Bucky and letting Bucky follow him in. "When are you going to break those habits?" he asked. "It's not like you have to watch me for an asthma attack or anything anymore."

"Steve, I've had those habits for years. I'm probably not breaking them any time soon."

Steve made a frustrated noise, but let it drop as they approached the receptionist. The receptionist was studying Steve intently, then raised his eyebrows. At least, Bucky thought the receptionist was a man. He couldn't really tell, the receptionist was the very picture of androgyny, so for lack of any other ideas, Bucky settled on thinking of the receptionist as a man until proven otherwise.

"Captain America?" the receptionist half asked, half stated, acting like he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not.

Steve looked at Bucky. "How did I know that was probably coming?"

Bucky took a second to force himself to speak, not yet quite in the habit of doing so in public. "You're famous."

Steve turned back to the receptionist. "We found a stray cat at our apartment," he said. "We just wanted to see if she's chipped so we can get her back to her owner."

"Easy enough," the receptionist said. "I'll take the kitty to the back and have one of the vet techs scan her."

Bucky surrendered the kitten from her hiding place under his jacket, and the receptionist took her and disappeared into the back.

All in all, it took less than two minutes before the receptionist came back, kitten in one arm, a slip of paper in his free hand. "Here," he said, handing the paper and cat to them. "She was chipped, that's the owner's contact information so you can get her back to him."

Bucky took the cat while Steve took the paper and studied it. He frowned. "This is one of our neighbors."

Bucky looked around Steve's shoulder to read the paper. "Was he home when you knocked?"

Steve's frown deepened. "Yeah, he said he didn't have a cat." He grabbed his cellphone out of his pants pocket, stepping away from the front counter. Bucky followed him. "I'll call him, just in case." Steve dialed the number on the paper, and then waited for the other line to pick up.

Bucky idly pet the kitten, trying to keep her calm, while listening to Steve's side of the conversation. Judging by Steve's expressions as he and their neighbor talked, Bucky could only guess that it wasn't going well. Steve's reaction quickly went from concerned, to confused, and then right into pissed off territory. Bucky raised an eybrow, waiting expectantly for Steve to tell him what the hell their neighbor said once Steve had hung up.

"He deliberately dumped her," Steve said, his jaw clenched tight enough that Bucky almost couldn't understand what Steve was saying. "Said something about her being sick, and then said some extremely nasty things that I don't even understand how they connected."

"That bad, huh?"

Steve didn't answer that, turning back towards the reception desk. The receptionist looked like he was trying to maintain a neutral expression, but Bucky had a feeling he'd heard the whole thing. When he spoke up, it only confirmed that suspicion. "Did he say what the kitty's sick with?" he asked. "It might be something we can treat."

"Not really," Steve said, jaw still tense. "He said something about not wanting- well, I won't use his exact words, but he made it sound like she was sick with some disease that only affects gay people."

Wait, what? Bucky stared up at him, trying to figure out exactly what their neighbor could've meant by that. What kind of stupid reasoning took that jump?

The receptionist sighed. "He's probably talking about FIV," he said. "In a nutshell, it's the feline version of HIV, which used to be thought of as a gay man's illness, since it was widespread in the gay community. You'd think after thirty years, we would've figured out otherwise. We can test her to be sure, it takes about ten, maybe fifteen minutes in house, if you want."

"What exactly is it?" Steve asked.

"What, FIV?" the receptionist asked. "It's a virus that attacks the immune system of the cat. If I had to guess by how the little lady is acting, I'd say she's probably already into the asymptomatic stage. She could stay in that stage for only a few months, or many years. It varies. When it does eventually progress to FAIDS, it becomes a problem, because the immune system can't fight off infections, so secondary infections can become deadly."

Steve looked at Bucky, likely the same thoughts going through their heads. Bucky nodded, then Steve turned back to the receptionist. "Go ahead and test her. We have time to wait."

The receptionist once again took the cat into the back, and returned within a minute, going back to his normal duties, leaving Steve and Bucky to wait. Steve paced a bit, clearly still agitated by his conversation with their neighbor, while Bucky sat stone still in one of the chairs in the waiting area, plotting horrible, horrible death for said neighbor. Who the hell abandoned a kitten, sick or not? Their neighbor, apparently, which led to more thoughts of murder and mayhem to inflict on the heartless prick.

Bucky wasn't sure how long it was before a vet tech came out, the kitten in hand, but he had a feeling it was probably less than fifteen minutes. Sure as hell felt longer.

The vet tech was a brunette of average height, and after a second, Bucky realized that her brown hair had purple highlights in it. He'd probably never get used to the trend of dying one's hair unnatural colors. When did this trend even start? And what was wrong with natural colors?

He realized that he was feeling his age when his next thought was 'kids these days'.

"Okay," the vet tech said, not yet handing over the kitten. "She did test FIV positive. But that doesn't necessarily mean she's got the virus, just the antibodies. But the risk is still there of her having the virus and it developing into FAIDS. I don't know if Morgan told you, but a cat with FAIDS can become very expensive to take care of. I don't know your financial situation, but if you decide you don't want to, or can't keep her, there's a no-kill shelter called The Cat House about a mile from here."

"What are her chances of being adopted?" Steve asked. Bucky wasn't sure if he was grateful or not that Steve had been the one to voice that little shared thought. On one hand, knowing would let him decide what to do with the kitten, on the other, he had a feeling that if it was bad news, it was just going to upset him.

The vet tech gave them a sympathetic look. "Honestly? It's hard to say. She's a kitten, and kittens have a good chance of being adopted, but sick and injured kitties tend to get overlooked. She might have a chance, she might be stuck in the shelter for the rest of her life, however long that might be."

Yup, there was the bad news, and with it came a queasy feeling of Not Happy.

Steve looked conflicted, barely glancing over at Bucky, before starting to speak. "We'll take her to the shel-"

"We'll take her home," Bucky interrupted.

Steve shook his head. "We can't keep her. You said so yourself."

"I'll trick Tony into taking her. He's home regularly, and he can afford the vet bills."

Now Steve just looked like he thought Bucky had lost his mind. "And how are you going to do that?"

Bucky hesitated. He hadn't really thought about that part; Tony didn't seem like the kind to take in a dependent, not even a tiny, furry kind. Then a wonderfully evil thought occurred to him. "Pepper."

Steve obviously hadn't been expecting that answer, as he looked like he was seriously considering that. "Pepper," he finally agreed, then looked back to the vet tech. "We have a friend that might take her."

The vet tech handed the kitten over to Steve, who passed her along to Bucky. "Good luck," she said. "I hope you can convince your friend to take her. I have a personal philosophy that every kitty deserves a good home."

Steve motioned to Bucky. "So does he," he said, flashing Bucky a consternated look.

Bucky made a point of not reacting to that.

The vet tech- Mandy, they found out her name was -recommended picking up at least a few days worth of cat necessities until Tony could come get the cat, things that he could potentially take home with him to use until he was able to go out and get more permanent things. Which meant a trip to a pet store. While most pet stores allowed pets in, both Bucky and Steve agreed that it'd be less stress on the kitten for them to drop her and Bucky off at home while Steve went to the store on his own.

On his way up the stairs to their apartment, Bucky had to squash the desire to stop by at their neighbor's apartment and visit all sorts of violent things upon his person. Assault charges would probably not make Steve very happy. And if Steve were unhappy, there was a distinct possibility that he wouldn't post bail.

Once he and the kitten were inside and the door was safely locked behind them, Bucky put her down, letting her wander around. She'd been squirming the entire trip home, and while he had no problem outpowering her, it was a bit difficult to keep her still without crushing ribs or bruising her. So he was very happy to put her down and let her walk off her restlessness.

"Just don't find a corner or anything to leave us a present in to clean up later," he told her, shrugging out of his jacket. "You can wait until Steve gets home with a litter box for you."

The kitten didn't pay him any mind, immediately wandering off to explore the couch. He watched her a couple minutes as she climbed up the arm, and he silently decided to thank everything that they weren't actually keeping her, because Steve had this thing about furniture. Now that he could afford nice furniture, he got a bit twitchy about it not looking nice.

Spill one cup of coffee and your roommate goes nuclear on you.

Deciding that she'd cause minimal damage at worst without supervision for the whole two minutes it'd take him to piss and wash his hands, he left her in the living room to go to the bathroom.

Bucky had barely gotten into the bathroom when he tripped over something, flailing his arm out to catch the edge of the sink to keep from landing on his face. He righted himself and glanced down to see the kitten right under his feet.

"How the hell did you get in here so fast?" he demanded. "No, this is not happening. Get out."

The kitten, naturally, completely ignored him to go play with the towels on the towel rack.

"You are just reaffirming my decision to never have kids," he said. "Out." After once again being ignored, Bucky gave up and closed the door. Of course, the kitten had to make things as awkward as possible.

He left the kitten where it was in the bathroom, hoping that she would refrain from mangling the towels she'd been playing with. Towels were far easier and cheaper to replace than a couch was, but Steve still had this hang up about nice things. He probably wouldn't appreciate finding out that his towel had been clawed up the next time he stepped out of the shower.

But, after having his privacy invaded, Bucky was inclined to let the kitten do whatever she wanted and let Steve deal with it when he came home. Bucky was a softie for animals, particularly cats, but having a living creature sit there and watch him piss was enough to make him empty his bag of fucks to give and walk away for awhile. The kitten would be fine.

Bucky occupied himself by cleaning the extra chicken salad off the plate that the kitten hadn't eaten earlier, then sticking the plate in the dishwasher- oh, what a wonderful invention, the dishwasher. Why couldn't it have been around when he was a kid and forced to clean the dinner dishes every night? He hated the chore more than any other job he'd been given. The invention of the dishwasher was one of modern man's greatest achievements, as far as he was concerned.

From the direction of the bathroom, Bucky heard a pathetic kitten cry. He worried that she might've trapped herself somehow, so he shut the dishwasher and headed back down the hall. The kitten made that noise again, this time distinctly from inside the bathroom. Bucky turned on the light, to see the kitten sitting in the middle of the room, crying and shaking a bit. Upon seeing Bucky, she got up and attached herself to his legs.

"What, did you forget I left?" he asked, picking her up. She curled up in his arms and started kneading his flesh arm. He didn't understand how she could possibly have gotten that afraid to be left in the dark in the bathroom when there was still light and sounds of someone being home outside the door, but she obviously had. "I don't know if you've got abandonment issues, or if you're just dumb. I'm going to pretend it's abandonment issues, because I don't want to give up on your intelligence. You found me, after all."

She buried her head against his arm in response, and any irritation he'd had at her violation of his privacy disappeared. It was pretty much impossible for Bucky to stay mad at an animal for very long, and this kitten was taking full advantage of that. Most people would probably think he was too emotional because of that, but Bucky would rather be a softie than to have no emotional reaction at all. He'd done that for decades as Hydra's weapon, and that had probably almost screwed him up more than the chemicals and machines had.

This modern day view of masculinity could go find a bull to cozy up to.

He sat back down at the table before realizing that he probably would've been better off on the couch with the TV on, since he didn't exactly have his flesh hand free to use the touchscreen on his tablet. Well, shit. He looked down at the kitten. "If I put you down, will you go find someplace to sleep where you're _not_ going to be afraid of the dark?"

Bucky wasn't really expecting an answer, so he carefully extracted her from his arm and set her down on the table in front of him. He had a feeling that if he just put her on the ground, she might try to climb his leg again, and this way, she could be as clingy as she wanted and he'd be free to amuse himself with his tablet while they waited on Steve. The idea of just holding the kitten and letting her sleep for the next twenty minutes or so didn't sound very entertaining.

He looked at the kitten, grabbing his tablet. "Thank you for being mobile so I can put you on the table and not get accused of abuse," he said. She crawled over his metal wrist, pawing at his flesh hand and completely ignoring the fact that he was trying to use that hand to turn on music. She paused and looked up at him, then butted her head against his hand.

For a moment, he could only study her, feeling a sort of exasperation that was far eclipsed by the fact that he was complete putty in that tiny kitten's paws. Oh hell. "All right," he said, taking only another second to turn the music on his tablet on, then set it aside and turned his attention to her. "What do you want?"

She made herself pretty clear by pushing her head against the palm of his flesh hand. "Well, at least you know how to communicate," he said, rubbing her ears gently. She began to purr loudly enough that he half wondered if the neighbors would hear. He knew that was silly, but she was certainly louder than any cat he'd ever interacted with as a child.

Bucky propped his mechanical elbow up on the table, resting his chin on his fist as the cat molested his hand to direct all sorts of scritches and pets over her face. If he wasn't careful, he might've been lulled to sleep by the repetitive motions of his hand and her purring. He was convinced that there wasn't a bad mood in the world that couldn't be at least set aside by the purring of a cat.

By the time Bucky heard the door unlocking, the kitten had fallen asleep, using Bucky's hand as a pillow. He didn't have the heart to make her move so he had use of his hand again.

"I'm back!" Steve called in, making a decent amount of noise with what he was carrying.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder back at the entry way. "You wake the baby, you put the baby back to sleep," he said.

Steve stared at him, clearly struggling to figure out what the hell Bucky was talking about, until Bucky leaned to the side so Steve could see the still sleeping kitten. Bucky wasn't sure how she'd stayed asleep through all that noise, but for the moment, he was glad she did. He'd have an excuse to shove the chore of setting up the litter box onto Steve.

"She looks like the apocalypse couldn't wake her," Steve said, but he had lowered his voice a touch. "Bucky, you're a marshmallow."

"Don't tell anyone, it'll ruin my reputation," Bucky said, moving back into a more upright position, still not moving his hand from under the kitten's head.

Steve set down a small litter pan with an equally small box of litter in it on the floor next to the table, and then a plastic bag that looked like it had a couple cans of cat food and a food and water bowl in it. "I suppose you're not going to wake her so you can come help set up her food or box, are you?" Steve said, giving Bucky a look that said 'you make me tired all over and some days I think I should hit you for it.'

Bucky didn't change his expression in the slightest, looking up at Steve, then pointed to the sleeping kitten. "Do _you_ want to wake this?" Steve gave him a stern look, crossing his arms over his chest. Bucky tried to stare him down with that bland expression, but after a moment, he realized he wasn't winning this one, and sighed. "You're a heartless bastard," he said, then carefully scooped the kitten up. "C'mere, you," he said to her. She protested being woken with that tiny squeak of hers, but otherwise didn't squirm as he got up, holding her carefully. "Let's go set up her box, she probably needs to use it by now."

Steve reached down and grabbed the litter pan and the box of litter. "That's what I kinda figured," he said.

With a bit of smug satisfaction, Bucky noticed that despite Steve's insistence that Bucky get up and help, he still didn't have to do a thing, since Steve took it upon himself to take the box and litter to the spare bedroom that used to be Bucky's. All Bucky had to do was stand there and hold the kitten that was still waking up and making it known that she didn't appreciate having been woken up in the first place.

He was probably an asshole for not helping, but really, setting down a litter pan and pouring some litter into it was hardly a two person job. So he didn't feel all that bad about it.

Once the box was set up, Bucky put the kitten down by it. She made a point of investigating around it before walking into it. Bucky backed away. "I'm going to give her privacy," he said, stepping out of the room. "Just because she's rude enough to not do that, doesn't mean I want to stand here and watch her use the box."

Steve followed him out. "What, she followed you into the bathroom?" Bucky nodded in consternation. Steve choked, covering his mouth with his hand, but Bucky could see the stupid ass grin on his face despite that. "Just remember, it's better than a human kid following you in."

Bucky made a face. "I don't know how our mothers ever put up with that," he said.

"Because they're better people than we are."

"That, I don't buy," Bucky said. "Your mother might've been, you had to get it from somewhere. But my mother was just insane. You're not a good person because you raise four bratty kids, you're a lunatic."

Steve gave him a shit-eating grin. "And you got it from somewhere, so mystery solved."

Bucky punched Steve on the arm. "You're a jackass."

"I have to be to keep up with you," Steve said, walking back to the table where he'd left the bag with the food and bowls. He pulled out a small blue bowl and handed it out to Bucky. "Here, you get her water. I'll take care of her food."

Bucky took the bowl, still giving Steve a dirty look. He was just about to head to the kitchen when he heard the kitten crying again. He looked back towards the hallway. "Seriously? We're in here," he called back to her. Within seconds, she came running out of the back rooms and tangled herself around Bucky's feet, before standing up on her hind legs and stretching her front paws up to hook her claws on his jeans. He stared down at her. "You are like a toddler asking her mother to pick her up when she doesn't need to be carried anywhere."

"So you're saying you're her mother?" Steve said, cracking open a can of wet cat food.

"Screw you," Bucky snapped, then picked up the kitten and dropped her on the table. "He's got food for you," he told her, pointing at Steve. "Stay here, and this time? Don't try to jump off a table that's too high for you to jump from."

The kitten stood up on her hind legs again, reaching up and grabbing his hand. She pulled it down to her and rubbed her face against his fingers. Steve laughed. "She's gotten attached to you."

Bucky pulled his hand away and nudged the kitten towards Steve and the bowl of food he'd prepared for her. "Yeah, well, animals like me," Bucky said, turning away to fill the bowl he was holding with water. "Someone has to."

"Oh come on, Bucky," Steve said. Bucky glanced over as he filled the water bowl. The kitten was already eating again, and like earlier, talking while doing it. "I like you," Steve continued. "Pepper likes you. And Tony does too, even if he doesn't seem to know how to show that without being an asshole about it."

Bucky made a dismissive noise, not really reacting otherwise to that as he walked over and set the water bowl on the table next to the food bowl. The kitten stopped eating briefly to sniff the water, then went back to her food.

"I think the only person that doesn't like you right now is you," Steve said, taking his usual seat at the table and sliding his laptop over to himself.

Bucky scowled at him. "Can we not try to dissect my brain right now? Get a hold of Pepper."

Steve pulled out his phone, hesitated, then looked over at Bucky. "You sure about this? We could keep her."

"I thought we agreed that we couldn't," Bucky said, a bit bewildered that Steve was even asking.

"The main reason you gave was that we're gone a lot," Steve pointed out. "We could always ask Sam to catsit. I know you don't know him well, but I'll vouch for him."

Bucky considered half-heartedly. If Steve trusted Sam, Bucky knew he could too. But he still felt uncomfortable at the idea of leaving a pet with someone he didn't know. But it wasn't just his lack of trust in Sam that made him reluctant. "And what if she gets sick while we're gone? Vet bills get expensive and those places tend to ask for payment up front. He may not be bad off, but he might not be able to afford her."

"I could always get a credit card to let him use in those cases," Steve said, clearly not buying that as Bucky's real reason. Damn punk knew Bucky too well for that.

Knowing that Steve was not going to let this go until Bucky 'fessed up to his entirely too sentimental reason, Bucky decided to look at the kitten rather than at Steve. He felt a bit mentally squirmy the longer he maintained his silence, because the longer he stayed quiet, the longer Steve waited patiently. Bucky sighed. "If she gets sick and dies while we're gone, she's dying without her family there. That seems like a pretty shitty way to go."

Steve sat back in his seat. "And there's the real reason. Bucky, you didn't have to hide behind those excuses. You know I'd understand that."

"Yeah, well, that's because you're gooey inside," Bucky said, a bit grumpy. "I'm not."

"The hell you aren't," Steve said. "If you weren't, you wouldn't have been willing to be friends with the scrawny kid that everyone wanted to beat up."

Bucky was about to protest that what Steve said was different from getting gushy over an animal, but that damn cat just had to come over at that point and start trying to play with his metal fingers. He stared at her. "You're ruining my case," he told her.

Steve laughed, giving Bucky a smug grin. "I told you. Face it, Bucky, you have emotions again. And that's not a bad thing. Besides, you need more good ones, you brood too much."

"You're a punk," Bucky said without much feeling behind it, mostly paying attention to the kitten, letting her try to attack his hand. He was sure she thought she was winning. "That's not good for your teeth, you know," he said as she tried to chew on the ends of his fingers. She didn't seem to care.

"So I ask again," Steve said. "Are you sure you want to give her to Pepper and Tony?"

Bucky didn't answer at first, picking up the tiny animal and settling her on his flesh arm, holding her as she continued to attack his fingers without a care that she'd been moved. It was sorely tempting to say no, to keep her. Steve was right, having something else to be happy about besides his friends would probably be good for him, and if he were honest, he missed fussing over small animals.

But there was still that thought that she might die without him there for her. And that left a lump in his stomach.

Finally, he drew in a deep breath. "Call Pepper," he said. "If she says no, we'll figure out something."

"All right," Steve said, turning his attention back to the phone he still had in his hand. Bucky figured he was sending her a text instead of a call when Steve kept typing, and never brought the phone to his ear. "I'll try to get her on a video call," he said. "That way she can see the fuzzball for consideration."

Steve turned the laptop slightly so Bucky could see the screen if Pepper was available to chat. Bucky ignored the computer for the moment, knowing that Pepper probably wasn't going to sign in until after a reply text at the very least. He let Steve stare boredly at his phone while Bucky put his attention on the kitten, who'd flipped herself onto her back in his arm, purring quietly and looking ready to fall asleep. Bucky couldn't help but smile, rubbing her belly lightly with one mechanical finger.

He looked up when he noticed Steve watching him. Steve looked vaguely amused. "It's good to see you back to your old self," he said. "The Winter Soldier never would've held a cat like a baby. Or at all."

"Shows you what you know," Bucky said, no heart in the protest. "It drove Pierce nuts that I'd be careful about animals when on an assignment. Almost let one get away because I stopped to get a dog out of the way of the gunfire. I seem to recall getting into trouble for that one."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "You actually did that?" At Bucky's nod, Steve shook his head with a faint smile. "That should make you feel better, then. They couldn't take everything away from you."

Bucky didn't answer, not sure how to. In some ways, Steve was right. In a lot of other ways, he was very wrong.

Steve's text tone going off on his phone saved Bucky from having to think further on that subject. Steve grabbed his phone, eyed it, then set it down and scooted his chair a bit closer to Bucky to put both of them in the camera range on the computer. "She'll be on in a second," he said. "She just got done with a meeting and is on her way back to her office."

"Oh. Shit." Bucky felt a bit guilty. "I forgot today was a workday. We probably should've waited until the weekend."

"And if we'd gotten a call before then?" Steve looked at him.

"Well played."

Bucky glanced down at the kitten, still gently rubbing her exposed belly. She was sleeping, or close to it. She was either completely asleep and snoring, or she was just awake enough to be purring. He couldn't quite tell.

Steve's video call program pinged, drawing Bucky's attention away from the kitten that he was trying to stop himself from naming if Pepper said 'no'. Steve clicked on the button to accept the call, and Pepper's face appeared on the screen. She smiled, although she looked like she might do well with another cup of coffee. "Hi, guys. So what's this about a present, Steve?"

Bucky looked at Steve. "Appealing to a woman with gifts? I taught you well."

"And you thought I was never listening," Steve said, glancing briefly at Bucky, then back to Pepper. "How much of a gift it is entirely depends on you. How do you feel about animals?"

Pepper's smile turned into a confused frown. "You want to get me a pet? That's kind of a strange gift."

"It's not exactly a glamorous one, either," Steve admitted. "Nature gifted it to us, and we're trying to regift it to you. Hope you aren't offended by that."

"Not really," Pepper said, then glanced away from the camera. "Not now, I'm in a meeting," she said to someone off screen. "It won't take long, tell him I'll be with him in fifteen minutes, if it's longer, I'll let him know." Then she looked back at the screen as the door to her office shut loud enough to be heard over the call. "Sorry, a client showed up a bit early. Anyway, what's going on?"

Steve looked at Bucky, then at the kitten. Bucky glanced down at her, and sighed. She was still sound asleep. Steve scooted his chair over a bit so Bucky could slide his more into view of the camera to show the animal to Pepper. "I found her on the roof. One of our neighbors dumped her."

Pepper looked like she melted, making a sad little cooing noise. "Poor thing. Who dumps a kitten so tiny?"

"Our neighbor," Bucky said, barely holding back a growl. He still wanted to punch the guy a few million times or so. "She's FIV positive, he didn't want a high-maintenance pet."

"That's the kind version," Steve said. "We'll spare your temper the full reason."

"Probably a good idea," Pepper agreed. "I have to be nice to my next meeting, sadly. Even though I'd rather step on the guy's toes."

Steve flashed her a lopsided grin. "Need some hired muscle to loom over him for you?"

Pepper's smile lit up her face. "Aw, you're so sweet. But if you keep that up, Tony might get jealous and then I have to deal with him." She turned her head slightly, looking more in Bucky's direction. "Why can't you guys keep her? Not ready to adopt yet?"

"We haven't even gotten married yet, Pepper," Bucky said, struggling to keep from laughing. "One step at a time." Steve reached over and smacked him on the back of the head. Bucky looked at him. "Wake the baby, you put the baby back to sleep." Steve didn't give him a verbal reply, just gave him a long-suffering sigh. Bucky turned back to the computer. "We aren't always home consistently," he told Pepper. "You two are, for the most part."

"True," Pepper said. "What about a catsitter?"

"We considered that," Steve said. "But if she gets sick, there's a decent chance she might not make it before we can get home. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to die alone in a strange place."

Bucky silently thanked Steve for putting that idea out as his own.

Pepper's shoulders did that wilting slumping again. "Yeah, I hadn't thought of that. That's too bad, she seems like you, Bucky."

"Don't let him fool you," Steve said with a jerkfaced smile. "She owns him at the moment. If she weren't sick, he would've already named her."

Bucky gave Steve a sour look. "You act like I'm the only animal lover around here."

Pepper wrinkled her nose at Bucky. "You're adorable." Bucky gave her an offended look and kicked Steve's ankle under the table as Steve started laughing. Pepper sat back, looking at the sleeping kitten. "It'll take some doing to get Tony to agree to it," she said. "He's never outright said no to a pet, but he's made it pretty clear that he doesn't want small dependents running around."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You mean he's the one that actually makes the decisions in that household?"

Pepper tried to look innocent for about three seconds before her smile turned perfectly wicked. "I like to let him think he does. Makes him easier to manipulate to my bidding."

"So make this seem like Tony's decision," Bucky said. "You want a gift, we need help finding a place for a gift, brilliant idea to kill two birds with one stone. Are there any gift-giving days coming up? Anniversary or birthday?"

"Sadly, no," Pepper said. "Give me two hours, max. You'll either hear from him that he's reluctantly on his way to DC to pick her up, or from me that even my feminine wiles couldn't budge his black little heart."

"Thanks, Pepper," Steve said.

She smiled. "Always happy to help a friend. And besides, she looks adorable. But anyway, I have to go, I've got an impatient client sitting outside my office."

They exchanged goodbyes, then the call disconnected and Steve moved his laptop back around to its usual spot. Steve looked at Bucky. "Now we wait. Any ideas what we'll do if Tony says no?"

Bucky looked down at the bundle of purring fluff curled up in his arms. "I guess we'll keep her and hope for the best," he said.

Steve made a noise that might've been agreement. When nothing more was said, Bucky tuned out Steve clicking around on his laptop, focusing instead on the sleeping kitten, rubbing her whiskers gently. She squirmed a bit, but didn't wake up, just settled into a slightly different position and kept sleeping.

Bucky smiled, then bit back to urge to sigh. He knew he should set her down on the couch to sleep instead of fussing at her to keep from getting too attached, but it might've been too late. A tiny, quiet part of him hoped that Tony would say no, but the rest of him refused to take the chance of the kitten's family not being there for her if her illness carried her off. So making the Stark-Potts household her family was the better option.

"What're you going to do, hold her for the next two hours?" Steve asked, and Bucky looked up at him to see that the jackass looked like he was doing his best not to laugh. "You can't use your tablet with your left hand."

Bucky scowled at him. "She's comfortable. When she wakes up, I'll move her."

"So you're just going to sit there like that?"

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, realizing that he was about to sound like a new mother who refused to be separated from her newborn and slumped in his chair a bit with a sour look on his face. "Shut up."

Steve laughed. "You're a teddy bear. It's no wonder your mother was frustrated when you refused to marry and give her grandkids. You were good with your siblings."

"Being good with kids doesn't make for father material," Bucky said. "I remember a lot of times where I gave up and dragged the little brats to our parents because I was about to go nuclear on them."

"You were a kid," Steve pointed out. "You mellowed as you got older. That's normal."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. "And now that my temper's short again, you still think this would be a good idea?"

Steve gave a pointed look to the sleeping kitten, then up to Bucky. "I think that's a pretty good indication that your temper isn't as short as you think."

For a second, Bucky just studied Steve, tilting his head slightly. "I'm a bit concerned where this conversation is going, Steve. Why are you wanting to saddle me with kids?"

"I'm not," Steve said. "I'm just telling you to give yourself more credit. You're not a completely heartless assassin, you don't have to act like you're being caught at something you're not supposed to do just because you're turning gooshy over an animal."

Bucky made one of those faces that his mother constantly warned would freeze on his face if he didn't stop. "You were _laughing_ at me, you asshole."

Steve tried to look innocent for a moment, then shrugged with another one of those way too amused for his own good grins. "Maybe a little. You try to act like you don't care about much anymore. And yet, there you are, holding a kitten like she's a baby."

"Technically, she _is_ a baby," Bucky said, trying to deflect the conversation a bit. "She's a baby cat. Baby does not exclusively apply to the hairless primate kind."

"Hairless primate?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

Bucky pointed at the kitten. "She's a furry feline." Then he pointed at Steve. "You are a hairless primate. Or did you fail biology in school?"

Steve propped his chin on his fist. "I suppose better a mercenary hairless primate than a performing hairless primate."

"I remember that picture," Bucky said, sitting back slightly, careful to not wake his bundle of purrs. "You must've been looking in a mirror when you drew it." Steve gave him a dirty look, and Bucky pointed at the kitten again. "Before you try to hit me, remember that if you wake the baby, you-"

"-put the baby back to sleep," Steve finished. "Your mother said that too much. It stuck in your brain."

"It's a good way to stop excessive noise and violence," Bucky said. "Especially when your baby sister is colic."

Steve shook his head. "You know, as much as I liked your siblings, I am just as glad that I was an only child. Knowing my mother's luck, she would've ended up with two kids with a ton of health problems."

"She would've found them worth it," Bucky said. "She found you worth it."

"My mother was a saint, that's why," Steve said, the faint smile on his face not quite matching the exasperated tone of his voice.

"If the only requirements for being a saint is finding a kid with health problems worth caring about, then I'm better than Saint Michael himself," Bucky pointed out. "Stop that. And you say I'm self-deprecating."

"We all have our moments," Steve said. "I've even heard of Tony having them. I never saw them directly, but Pepper has, and I have no reason to think she's making it up."

"I think Pepper is incapable of lying to her friends," Bucky said. He glanced down at the kitten as she moved again, waking up enough to make that squeaking noise that passed for a meow. "So are you going to wake up now, or do I not get my arm back?"

She squirmed like a turtle on its back, so Bucky took that as a sign that she wanted up and set her upright on the table. She stretched, yawned, scratched her ear, then promptly walked right across Steve's laptop keyboard to her water dish that was still on the table.

Steve stared at his screen. "She just did a Google search that brought up some Korean guy named 'L Jiu.' I think." He looked at the kitten. "I hope you do that to Tony frequently. He deserves it."

Bucky rested his face against his palm in a way that mostly smothered the amused grin on his face. "I won't argue with _that_."

"If we end up keeping her, I'm training her to walk on your tablet," Steve said. "My keyboard doesn't need cat litter pieces from her paws stuck under the keys."

"Because my sensitive touch screen tablet needs a five pound kitten walking on it." Bucky kicked Steve's ankle. "You're a jackass."

Steve kicked back at Bucky's foot. "I learned from you."

"The hell you did!" Bucky stomped down on Steve's toes. Steve yelped. "You were a jackass long before I met you."

Steve laughed. "I was five when you met me, how long did I really have to be like that without your influence?"

"You're Irish, Steve, being a jackass is in your blood." Then he pointed at Steve sternly. "And if you dare start talking in that stupid accent your mother taught you, I will kick you again."

That just made Steve laugh more. "You only hated that because you couldn't understand what I was saying."

"That's because the accent is stupid," Bucky said. "I think you would've been beat up for that alone."

"That, and the way I walked," Steve said.

Bucky shrugged. "Column A, column Beee- shit!" Bucky sat forward, half standing from his seat as the kitten perched on the edge of the table, readying herself to jump. Steve looked over, then grabbed her. Bucky sighed, sitting back down. "Cats have no survival instinct."

Steve set the kitten down on the floor. "That's why they have nine lives," he said. "I'll put her bowls on the ground. Might keep her off the table."

Bucky watched the kitten wander around while Steve put her bowls on the floor, just inside the kitchen on the tile floor. "Tony deserves the heart attack she'll give him," he said, already believing that she'd be adopted by Tony and Pepper.

"He deserves a lot of things," Steve said, moving to sit back down. He paused at the sound of claws on furniture and turned. The kitten was trying to climb up the couch. "Not my couch," he snapped at her. Naturally, she didn't listen.

"Steve, your couch will survive kitten claws until Tony can come get her," Bucky said with some exasperation. "You won't even notice anything wrong with the damn couch."

With a sigh of frustration, Steve turned back around to look at his computer than over his shoulder at the kitten. "If we end up keeping her, I'm going to stick double-sided tape on the couch until she learns to keep her claws off."

"You'll have to tape the towels then, too," Bucky said.

Steve looked at him. "She got the towels, too?" Bucky nodded, trying very hard not to laugh at him. Steve shot another dirty look over his shoulder. "For being tiny, you sure are destructive. I used to know someone like you."

"Rebecca was a force of nature," Bucky said. "The kitten is a kitten that can't cause that much harm. You can't compare them."

"They're both female, the comparison is accurate," Steve said, turning back around to give a grumpy look at his computer.

"And now you see why I never wanted to get married," Bucky said, picking up his tablet.

They let the kitten mostly wander around on her own, both occasionally hunting her down to whatever trouble she was getting into to make sure she was okay and hadn't broken or shredded anything, but she mostly behaved. She got lost a couple times back in the hallway, and it was inevitably Bucky who was sent to rescue her. When Bucky demanded to know why Steve couldn't get off his lazy butt to do it himself, Steve gave him the weakass excuse that he had to stay by his computer to watch for a call from Tony or Pepper.

Bucky threatened to drop the kitten on his keyboard again. Steve gave him one of those looks that Bucky's younger siblings had taught him that manipulated Bucky into doing their bidding. Bucky swore at him, but got up and led the kitten back into the main living area.

It was almost at the two hour deadline that Pepper had given them when Steve's video phone program pinged with an incoming call. Bucky put his tablet down, leaning over slightly to see the screen. The caller ID said it was Tony. "Okay, so I'm going to guess that Pepper's charms worked," he said.

"We'll find out," Steve said, clicking the accept call button.

Tony's face popped up on screen, and he looked pissed. "I hate you two," he said. "I want you to know that I have to curse you with the Stark family curse that will damn you both to generations of pain and suffering and bad things, because you are bad people and you should feel bad."

Tony's intimidation tactics failed to work, as both Bucky and Steve busted up laughing at his expense. "Pepper must've talked to you," Steve said. Bucky moved his chair around so he wasn't straining to see the screen.

"Oh, she talked to me," Tony said, still sounding like he was trying to kill them with his brain. "Do you know what she said? She didn't say 'Bucky and Steve found a kitten they need to find a home for and I want her.' No, she said 'Tony, we need to talk.' Which is the most horrifying thing a woman can say to a man. Do you know how much I wanted to wet myself in fear?"

Bucky laid his head down on the table, shoulders shaking from the effort to not keep laughing. Steve didn't bother with trying. "You wouldn't be the first man in existence to hear that," Steve told him.

"Not the point," Tony said. "Especially not when she followed it up with, and I quote, 'my biological clock is ticking and I want something small and cute around the house.'" Bucky gave up on trying not to laugh. "It's not funny!" Tony growled at them. "Do you have any idea how _bad_ I am with kids? They're fragile, you hold them wrong and they break. They drool. They spit up on your nice shirt right before you go out and don't have time to change. They require someone to wipe their butts for them. They drip snot. They have sticky fingers and grab at everything. They talk gibberish, even after you've managed to teach them English. They color on walls and knock over expensive things and break them. And then they expect you to read them a bedtime story and demand a kiss. No. Never happening. So thank you both for making my heart stop ticking for about five minutes. I thought I was going to have an aneurysm. My life flashed before my eyes."

Bucky was finally able to lift his head to look at the screen, although he still had an awful case of the giggles that wouldn't go away. "Tony, be glad you were an only child," he said.

"I am," Tony said. "I thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster every day for that blessing. But that doesn't change the fact that I will find a way to reach through the internet to strangle you both. I don't want to wait until tomorrow, when I can get there to pick up the damn cat."

"Just think," Steve said. "After being threatened with kids, a cat probably seems pretty palatable."

Tony didn't look terribly amused. "Which is why she used that tactic. It's underhanded, and you two gave her opportunity to use it. Where is she? Do I at least get to see what she looks like? If I'm adopting her, she'd better at least have my eyes."

Steve looked at Bucky. "Go get her," he said. He glanced behind him. "I think she's gotten herself lost again, anyway."

"Lost? In that tiny apartment?" Tony sighed theatrically. "Great, you're giving me Dummy II."

"She's four months old," Steve said while Bucky got up and searched for the cat.

He walked down the hall, glancing first into the spare bedroom where the litter box was, then into the bathroom, and finally into the bedroom. He found her in the closet, head first in one of Steve's running shoes. Bucky wrinkled his nose in disgust. "How the hell can you stand the smell of sweaty feet?" he demanded, picking her up. She squirmed and cried in protest. "Settle down, you can play again in a bit."

Tony was still complaining when Bucky returned to his seat. "You know, you could've just _asked_ me," Tony was saying.

"Would you have said yes?" Steve asked, tone and expression completely disbelieving what he was hearing.

"Probably not, but it would've been polite," Tony said. "Now, let me see the flea factory."

Bucky handed the kitten to Steve, who was more directly in the camera's visual range. Steve held the protesting cat up so Tony could get a good look at her.

Tony studied her critically. "She's too small. I might step on her. She's a wiggler. But at least she looks like she took after Pepper. Not a better woman to take after. All right, I suppose she'll do. You couldn't find a male cat? If I have to have any kind of progeny running around, I want to at least be able to pass my name to it."

"I'm sure you'll think of something, Tony," Steve said, setting the kitten down on the floor. She ran off at a dead sprint, fluffed up twice her size. Bucky watched her go until she disappeared down the hall, then turned his attention back to the screen. "What time tomorrow should we expect you?" Steve asked.

Tony glanced down, presumably at his display's clock. He looked like he was reluctantly agreeing to the commitment of setting a time. "Around noon, I guess. You're treating me to Mama's for this."

"We're treating you?" Bucky said, eyebrows raised. "You have enough money to buy God, why are we paying?"

"Because I'm doing you a favor," Tony said. "And also, you owe me for the scare Pepper gave me to talk me into this."

"Are you ever going to forgive us for that?" Bucky demanded.

"I will never forgive _you_ for anything, Mister Stabs Innocent Cheeseburgers."

"What about me?" Steve said. "I didn't stab your food."

Tony frowned, deliberating. "Okay, I guess I can forgive you. Eventually. Maybe. We'll see. Anyway, I am going to go read up on this FIV thing so I know how much Pepper's going to cry over Grand Dame Meowerson. Which is not her name. Unless Pepper actually lets me get away with that."

Bucky exchanged a look with Steve before looking at Tony, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. "Tony, if you try to name her that, I'm having you arrested for animal abuse."

"Will you take her back when you do?" Tony asked hopefully.

"No. You know Pepper wouldn't let you get away with that."

Tony looked crestfallen, then sighed. "You're right. She'll be attached to the fuzzball. Fine, fine, I'm officially a cat owner. I'm a grown man, I can deal with that. I'll see you two jerks at noon. I mean it, you're treating me to Mama's. I deserve one of her magnificent cheeseburgers for this."

"Just don't start asking for a parade," Steve said.

"I can have one of those whenever I want," Tony said. "Tomorrow. Noon. Don't sleep in." Tony lifted his hand in what was probably supposed to be a wave, then disconnected the call.

Steve minimized the program, revealing that he'd been hip deep in Wikipedia again before Tony's call, from the looks of his browser window, then turned to Bucky. Bucky had no idea what Steve was about to say, because no sooner had Steve opened his mouth, than a loud crash, accompanied by the kitten sounding like she'd just gotten hurt or attacked by a bigger cat, came from the bedroom.

Both Steve and Bucky upended their chairs for how fast they were up and sprinting down the hallway. Bucky had to grab the door frame to the bedroom with his left hand to keep from shooting past the door, and pulled himself in.

It wasn't hard to see what had happened. The wooden dowel in the closet that held up the clothes had fallen down, taking all their clothes with it. The kitten climbing clothing was probably the culprit. And said kitten was lost somewhere under that mess of fabric, and Bucky had no idea if she'd gotten hurt in the crash.

Steve grabbed the dowel and lifted it up, taking most of the clothes with it since most of the hangers had remained loosely looped over it. Bucky began looking under the remaining clothing for signs of the kitten. He finally found her trapped under a dress shirt that Bucky wasn't sure if it was his or Steve's. She stayed hunched down as he pulled the shirt off of her, eyes wide and holding still like whatever had hit her might not see if her she just didn't move.

Bucky sighed and picked her up, which prompted her to curl up in his arms and start purring as if nothing had happened. "You dumb animal," he scolded without much heat to it. "You're going to get yourself hurt."

"Is she okay?" Steve asked, setting the dowel back into the grooves on the wall that held it up. They'd have to bitch at management about that; if a four pound cat climbing clothing hung up on that thing was enough to pull it down, it wasn't stable enough to stay up with just the weight of the clothing in the first place.

"I think so," Bucky said. He gingerly pulled her away from his chest just enough to inspect her for signs of bleeding. She protested, paws flailed in his general direction. "Stop that," he said. "I don't see any obvious injuries." Deciding that she was fine, and acting entirely too normal for a tiny creature that just had a ton of clothing and a wooden dowel dropped on her head, he let her settle on his flesh forearm.

"I'll take care of the clothes," Steve told him. "Go sing to her or something, calm her down."

Bucky gave Steve a very weary look. "Don't be a jackass. You know I can't sing. You want her to be sung to, you do it, choir boy."

Steve chuckled, crouching down to put clothing back on hangers. "Get out of here. Go work your magic in dealing with small and injured creatures."

"She's not injured," Bucky protested, but he did leave, mostly before Steve could say anything else smart-mouthed. Just to prove his point, the kitten crawled up off his arm, climbing his shoulder and perched there, tiny claws dug into his shirt- and his shoulder -to not fall almost six feet to the ground. He side-eyed her, stopping just in the living room area. "You must be kidding me."

She wobbled a moment, claws sticking his skin like little needles, then turned and started trying to chew on his hair.

"Okay," he said, reaching up and plucking the kitten off his shoulder. "You are completely fine, you go on the floor now. Go chew on something _other_ than my hair." He set her down, and she ran full-tilt into the dining room and right into the table leg. He stared. "I found the most brain-damaged cat in the world," he decided. "Steve!" he called back down the hallway. "I think we may owe Pepper an apology. We're giving her a special needs cat."

Bucky heard some soft clicks that he assumed was the hangers hitting the closet dowel, then Steve's voice. "What'd she do?"

"She just ran into a table leg."

This time, Bucky heard a thump and a muffled laugh. "How do you manage to find animals like this?" Steve asked, then his voice got closer up behind Bucky. "At least she's not getting herself stuck up in trees on a regular basis."

"Okay, Tom was a pretty stupid cat," Bucky admitted.

The cat managed to stay mostly out of trouble the rest of the day, although she harassed their toes enough that Steve was forced to get a piece of aluminum foil and ball it up for her to play with. That kept her occupied until she finally passed out in a corner by the window leading to the fire escape.

Apparently, she was happily conforming to the kitten creed of 'play hard, sleep harder'.

At lunch time, she bugged them into sharing some of their sandwiches with her, mostly begging in Bucky's direction since Steve had been far firmer in saying no to her than Bucky had. Steve seemed to make a point of laughing at him for being wrapped around the kitten's little paw. Bucky threatened to drop the kitten feet first onto Steve's sandwich. Steve made a disgusted face and took his plate to sit at the couch, away from Bucky's threats that were closer to promises.

Bucky was actually relieved that the kitten was mostly well-behaved. Not just because cleaning up after hell cats was a pain, but because he'd feel really bad to be sending a sick, potentially expensive cat to his friends, only for her to be a terror that'd eat the plants and shred the couch. Tony needed to be given shit sometimes, but that was a bit much.

Dinner proved the only time she actually presented a problem. The kitten was young, and cats were naturally curious and that was all the worse in the younger ones, so when it came time to cook, she seemed to want to know exactly what was going on and insisted on being underfoot. When she almost tripped Steve while he was carrying a pot of boiling water to the sink, Bucky had enough and took her to the spare bedroom where her litter box was and shut the door.

She didn't like that much.

Bucky hunched over his food, poking at it with his fork, trying to ignore her wailing from the bedroom. She was making him feel guilty for locking her in there until after the kitchen was cleaned and not in use and she wasn't likely to trip one of them and send them face first into the counter. Which was a very good, logical argument against that guilt.

"You'd make a terrible father," Steve said suddenly.

Bucky blinked, looking over at Steve and staring. "What the _hell_ brought that up?"

Steve jabbed at him with his fork. "You're listening to her too much. If you were a father, you'd make your poor wife be the bad guy parent because you'd give in to your kid."

Bucky made a face about like he'd just been forced to eat mushy peas. "Yeah, I know." He glanced back towards the hall as the sounds of her pawing at the door joined her cries and sighed deeply. "She doesn't have to act like I just killed her best friend," he grumbled, turning back to his food.

"She's a cat," Steve pointed out. "And a young one, at that. Everything she doesn't like is the worst thing to ever happen. We'll let her out after the kitchen's clean. Unless you want to get dumped into the dishwasher, courtesy of an underfoot five pound bundle of fluff."

Bucky let that one marinate for about point-oh-three seconds and then went back to his food. "She can cry until she passes out."

Steve chuckled. "I thought so."

Fortunately for the kitten- not to mention Bucky's sanity -it didn't take long to clean up, and while Steve dried the one pan that didn't fit in the dishwasher, Bucky went down the hall to let the kitten out. "All right, you obnoxious miscreant, get out here."

She poked her head around the door, looking like she might not come out just to spite Bucky, then stepped out, rubbed against his legs, then took off in pursuit of some vague cat thing that probably hadn't been a consideration a second before she left the room. He hoped that she wouldn't run into the table leg again, because he'd _really_ have to worry about brain damage, but she found her aluminum ball instead, and happily started playing.

Good.

Evenings in their apartment were usually pretty quiet. Mostly, they read, which Bucky was fine with. Steve had a few paperbacks haunting the place, and he was constantly returning and checking out new books at the library, but Bucky preferred using the ebooks on his tablet. It'd been a bit difficult at first to adjust his eyes to reading off a screen instead of a page, but he went through books as fast as Steve did, and there was a limit on how many books they could check out at a time on one library card. Since Bucky couldn't get one of his own (yet), he was fine with just amassing an alarmingly large digital library.

He was honestly starting to think he'd have to turn in his Cool Kids creds and pick up a membership card to the Nerd Club.

It was nearing ten, the time they normally turned in for the evening, when the kitten finally emerged from wherever she'd buried herself with that aluminum ball. Bucky didn't notice her at first; he was trying to power his way through a book he was really not enjoying when he felt a couple soft taps on his leg, followed by a bit firmer of a tap. He looked down to see the kitten gently patting his leg with one paw, then rubbing her head against it in a kitty kiss.

"Thank you," he said, picking her up and putting her on the table. "I needed an excuse to stop reading this dumb book." She started purring, rubbing against his hand until he obliged her and started petting her, setting his tablet aside so she didn't accidentally step on it.

Steve looked up over his book. "If it's a dumb book, why don't you stop reading it and get a different one?" he asked, as if it should be obvious.

"Because it's a pop culture book that I'd like to understand references to," Bucky said, not looking over at Steve in favor of paying attention to the cat, who had flopped over to invite belly rubs.

"Which book?"

Bucky glanced back at his tablet. "Harry Potter. Why the hell these books ever became popular, I probably won't ever know. It's horribly written. The narration is annoyingly juvenile. I don't give a damn if it was aimed at young teenagers, if this is the best a twelve-year-old kid can read, we need to have a long talk with the government about the education system."

Steve shook his head, an amused half grin on his face. "At least it's not as bad as Twilight or Fifty Shades Of Grey."

It took Bucky a moment to place those names. "Isn't Fifty Shades that new sex movie that's coming out?"

"Sadly," Steve said. "I have no idea how they're going to get away with making a smut book into a movie that's not rated NC-17. I don't care to know. And no, I never read the book. I don't want to. If the characters in it are true to the characters they were based on, they're the worst people ever and I'd spend the entire time wanting to set the book on fire and throw it through the author's bedroom window."

Bucky snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. "That bad, huh?"

"I've read the books they were based on," Steve said, looking ashamed of himself for that. "Bella is the dumbest girl ever written, and Edward is a creepy and abusive stalker. And for some reason, girls think this is the ideal relationship."

Bucky could only stare at Steve for a moment, actually forgetting the kitten was there until she pushed at his hand again. He glanced at her, resuming his attentions, before looking back up at Steve. "Can I give up on modern society?"

"I did that as soon as I heard about the Kardashians," Steve said, going back to his book.

Bucky couldn't argue that.

Neither he nor Steve noticed when the time passed ten; Steve seemed engrossed in his book, and the kitten had Bucky's full attention. He'd miss her, and while he knew this was hardly the last time he'd ever see her again- unless Tony decided to hate him for it enough that he refused to let Steve and Bucky visit, which wasn't likely -he still wanted to enjoy a chance to have a cat around, something he hadn't since he enlisted in the army and had to give the cat he owned at the time to his sister to take care of while he was gone.

Which turned out to basically be indefinitely.

"Bucky?"

Bucky opened his eyes, wondering when they'd closed. "Hm?"

Steve set aside his book and motioned to the kitten on the table. She was draped across Bucky's wrist. "You put each other to sleep. And it's past ten. If you're going to sleep, you'd probably be more comfortable in a bed."

Bucky grunted, blinking very slowly. "Bed. Right. I have one, don't I?" He carefully extracted his hand from the kitten, who didn't seem to wake up at all, just adjusted her position and went right back to sleep, and stretched and yawned until his eyes watered. "Okay, yeah, bed." He looked at Steve. "You staying up?"

Steve shook his head. "No. I only stayed up because I was in the middle of a long chapter."

"You have this weird compulsion about not being willing to put down a book in the middle of a chapter," Bucky said, standing. He scooped up the kitten and deposited her on the couch so she wouldn't have to chance jumping off the table when she woke up and needed something. She stretched, sat up, scratched her ear, then turned in a couple circles and laid right back down and went to sleep.

Cats.

"You can be just as bad," Steve said. "Instead of making a very bad attempt at picking on me, why don't you go to bed and go to sleep?"

Bucky stepped to the side, motioning for Steve to go ahead of him. "You first, jerkface."

Steve sighed, but walked ahead anyway. "You're a jackass, Bucky."

"I'm the older one," Bucky said, placing his hand on the wall to keep him going forward with his eyes closed. "Which doesn't explain why you're one, too."

"I was the brat, remember?"

Bucky opened his eyes, feeling the jerk on his mechanical arm as his hand moved from solid wall to open doorway and righted himself. "That was Rebecca," he said. "You were the little shithead. I think."

"I thought you just said I was a jackass." Steve looked way too amused for his own good.

Bucky peeled his shirt off, wadded it up and flung it at Steve's face. "Quit trying to screw with the half-asleep guy's head," he grumbled, grabbing his nightshirt off of his bed.

Steve tossed Bucky's shirt into the clothes hamper. "Go to bed, Bucky, you're barely making sense."

"Meh." Bucky didn't offer any sort of rebuttal beyond that tired sound, finishing changing and slipping into bed. He had no idea if Steve said good night at all, passing out almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.

"Bucky?"

Bucky refused to open his eyes. Hadn't this just happened? Why was Steve waking him up already? He'd barely been asleep fifteen minutes, Steve should be asleep.

"Bucky?"

"Steve, if you don't go back to sleep and leave me alone, I'm smothering you with my pillow," he said, still not opening his eyes.

"It's eight-thirty," Steve said. "You slept in."

Finally, Bucky opened his eyes, blinking against the sleep trying to glue his eyes shut, and looked up at Steve. The room was far too bright for it to still be night. "You serious?"

"No, I'm lying to confuse you," Steve said in completely sincere voice and with a straight face. "And I wouldn't move too fast, if I were you. You'll kick off your bedmate."

It took about fifteen seconds to actually parse that. "Huh?" When Steve motioned towards Bucky's hand, Bucky lifted his head a bit and looked down, blinking in surprise; the kitten was sprawled under his mechanical hand, using it as a blanket. "When the hell did you get there?" His voice didn't wake her at all.

"No idea," Steve said with one of those jackass expressions that meant that Bucky might have to threaten him with bodily harm if he couldn't keep from laughing. "She was there when I woke up an hour ago."

Bucky sighed, head thumping back down on the pillow. "She's going to get separation anxiety," he grumbled.

"One last chance to call Tony," Steve said.

Bucky lifted his hand and rubbed the kitten's head, doing his best to wake her without hurting her. It was sometimes hard to tell how hard he was pressing against something or gripping something with a hand that had no surface sensory feedback. "Wake up," he told her. She didn't move, and if Bucky couldn't hear her breathing, he'd've had a moment of panic.

"She sleeps hard," Steve said. "And you didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one," Bucky said, sliding his hand underneath the kitten to lift her up. She whined a moment before getting her feet under her, then dutifully climbed down off the bed. Bucky sat up, no longer worried about knocking her off. "She'll deal. She's young, she'll be fine. If we keep her, she'll just get like that every time we leave for a job." He ran a hand through his hair. "What time was Tony going to be here again?"

"He said around noon," Steve said. "He also said we're taking him to Mama's while he's here."

"Yeah, I remember that." Bucky scowled. "If he upsets her again, I'm lighting his shoes on fire."

Steve sighed, sounding as much exasperated as he was amused. "Just ask her out already, Bucky."

Bucky reluctantly set his feet on the floor. Damn, it was cold, and that was carpet. He was loathe to find out how cold the kitchen floor was. "I will eventually," he said.

"And when is 'eventually'?"

Bucky stood and pushed past him, heading out of the room. "When I have a name."

"And when will that be?" Steve asked, following him.

Bucky stopped in front of the bathroom door and looked at Steve. "I don't bug you about your love life, don't bug me about mine," he said. "Now go away, I don't need your help here."

Steve snorted, shoving his hand against Bucky's face. "I'll feed the furball," he said, walking off.

Speaking of the furball, Bucky did a quick cat check in the bathroom, not about to share the tiny room with her while he showered. After deciding she wasn't in there, he shut the door.

He emerged about ten minutes later, his bare feet protesting walking around on cold floors after a hot shower, but he didn't feel like putting on socks and shoes until Tony was there and ready to drag them out to eat. "I hope you've got breakfast on the table, Steve," he said, walking out of the hallway and still combing his damp hair. "Because I'm not walking on that tile floor. The carpet's cold enough."

"Then pull on some socks," Steve said, standing at the stove and cooking what smelled like pancakes. He looked back over his shoulder at Bucky and drew his head back some. "I will never get used to that."

Bucky paused by the table, comb pulled halfway through a section of hair. "What?"

"You with long hair."

For a moment, Bucky could only stare at Steve, then yanked the comb free from a snarl in his hair. "Steve, it's been a _year_. I took less time than that to get used to you being over six foot with shoulders wider than mine. That's sorta a bigger difference."

Steve shook his head, turning back to the pancakes. "It's just weird, that's all."

Bucky sat down at the table. "It's not that it's weird, it's that it's not Bucky, it's the Winter Soldier," he corrected, trying to sound like he was more focused on working that goddamn knot out of his hair without yanking a handful out than on what he was actually saying.

The only sound in response was the sound of Steve flipping a pancake, and a tiny meow near Bucky's feet. He hadn't really expected Steve to answer, Steve never liked being called out on that, so he set the subject aside and glanced down to see the kitten at his feet, watching him expectantly. He finished working loose that particular tangle, then scooped up the kitten and set her down on the table in front of him before going back to trying to fix the mess of his hair that toweling it off inevitably made.

He was forced to stop when the kitten hooked her claws into his shirt sleeve and started tugging at his arm. He put his comb down and got down in her face with a stern look. "I'm trying to do something here," he said. Instead of backing away, or even having the courtesy of looking contrite, she responded by butting her head against his and bapping his nose. He laughed, sitting back and obliging her with the scritchings she wanted. "If you can't win Tony's black heart, nothing can."

"Tony's heart isn't as black as he likes to pretend," Steve said. "Kinda like you."

Bucky looked up at him, wondering when Steve had walked over, plates in hand. He frowned, grabbing the kitten and setting her on the floor to make room for the plates. "Compare me to him again and I'm letting her walk on your pancakes," he said.

Steve set the plates down and handed Bucky a fork. "I make you breakfast, and you threaten me. Not only would you make a bad father, you'd make a terrible husband, too."

"Don't worry, Steve," Bucky said, cutting a piece of pancake and stabbing it with his fork, "you're the only one I have room in my life for." He flashed Steve a bratty grin as Steve sat down, giving Bucky one of those 'you make me tired all over' looks that Bucky lived for. "Besides," he said around a mouthful of food. "You fired the first shot. I just retaliated."

"Chew first, then talk," Steve said, ignoring Bucky's perfectly valid point.

"Yes, Mother," Bucky said.

After finishing breakfast and taking care of the kitchen- Bucky told Steve to go entertain himself while Bucky did the dishes, Steve had cooked, after all -Bucky felt a bit restless. He was normally used to that; when they were between jobs, there wasn't much to do for them. One could only spend so much time out running or at the gym before it got boring and completely pointless, and the same applied to reading all day. Steve changed things up sometimes with drawing, or visiting Sam, but Bucky still wasn't fully comfortable with the idea of meeting up with Sam, and he didn't exactly have Steve's artistic talent.

It felt worse that morning, though. There was something happening at a certain time that day, and in the meantime was that horrible 'hurry up and wait' thing that Bucky had learned to put up with in the army. And Bucky wasn't sure if he wanted that wait to be longer or shorter. On one hand, the sooner Tony got there and took off with the kitten, the sooner Bucky could go back to normal life rather than stressing about the well-being of a small and helpless creature.

Steve was right, he'd make a terrible father.

But on the other hand, he'd gotten attached to the little fuzzball, and he'd be sad to see her go. Having been a child once himself, he didn't buy that 'unconditional love' from a human child nonsense, but he could buy it with animals. His cousin's dog had died from what the family had called heartbreak after his cousin had died of polio. Bucky wasn't sure how scientifically sound that was, but he'd been young enough at the time that the idea had stuck with him.

And considering that the kitten followed him around every time he got up, he was really starting to worry that she was already too attached to make it with Tony and Pepper. He had to remind himself more than once that she was probably just starved for affection and would be fine once Pepper got her hands on her.

He was lounged on the couch, feet propped up on one arm, head leaning against the other, reading several Wikipedia articles about the Vietnam War, when the buzzer rang. Bucky tilted his head back to look at the intercom panel. "Betcha that's Tony," he said after glancing at the clock.

Steve set aside his sketch book and pencil and got up. "I'll get it."

While Steve answered the buzzer- it was Tony -and unlocked the secured door for Tony to come in, Bucky lowered his tablet, looking at the kitten, who was sleeping in a ball on his chest. She didn't look like she'd even opened her eyes for the buzzer. "Wake up," he said quietly, reaching over and nudging her cheek with his finger. "Your owner is here."

Since she was clearly ignoring his attempts at waking her up, he turned off his tablet, then moved, grabbing her carefully with his flesh hand as he got up. That woke her up, and put her in a grouchy mood, if the noises she was making were any indication.

Bucky set his tablet on the table next to Steve's sketch book, still holding the kitten. He glanced at what Steve was drawing while Steve was answering the door. The drawing was half-finished, but even without the fine details, it was easy to see that it was a 'photograph' of the kitten sleeping under Bucky's hand that morning. Steve never had a camera growing up, so he'd always just drawn things he wanted to remember instead. The old folding cameras were out of his price range, and he never got into the habit of taking actual photographs after waking up to the twenty-first century.

Bucky shook his head with a lopsided smile. Steve was a nut, no other word for it.

"Okay, where is my new adopted progeny?" Tony asked.

Bucky glanced up to see Tony stepping into the dining area, a small, soft carrier strapped across his shoulder. Bucky held up the squirming kitten a bit. "Right here," he said.

Tony walked over to the table while Steve closed his sketch book and put it and his pencils out of the way. Tony set the carrier down on the now-clear table and held his hands out for the kitten. Bucky handed her over, watching as Tony held her up for inspection. The kitten reached out and pressed a paw to Tony's forehead. Tony leaned his head back. "Let's get one thing straight, Tony Junior," Tony said. "I am the one in charge."

"Tony Junior?" Bucky asked, incredulous. "Tony, that's a female cat."

Tony glanced around the kitten to look at Bucky. "Antoinette Stark Junior. Tony Stark Junior. It works. She's carrying on the family name."

Steve laughed. "Does Pepper know you're naming her cat that?"

"_Our_ cat," Tony corrected, tucking the kitten under one arm. "I called naming rights. She vetoed a lot of them." He looked put out by that. Tony Junior wiggled under Tony's grip, claws flailing. "Ow!" Tony put the cat on the table. "Claws."

"She has those," Steve said.

"She bites, too," Bucky added helpfully.

Tony studied Tony Junior- what a dumb name -as she inspected the pet carrier. "I'm training you to be a guard cat," he said. "If you're going to use those claws and teeth, you'll be useful about it." He unzipped the mesh opening. "In there, you," he said.

Bucky glanced at Steve before looking back at Tony, confused. "You're not planning on taking her to Mama's with us, are you? You know that's illegal, right?"

Tony made an unhappy face. "It was suggested to me that we shouldn't leave Tony Junior alone any place until she's used to her permanent home. Which means I have to take a rain check on that lunch."

"You act like we offered it," Steve said.

"You did," Tony said, nudging the kitten into the carrier. "You owe me for this, remember?" Once Tony Junior was in the carrier, Tony zipped it shut and shouldered it. "I'd stay, but Pepper already scheduled a vet appointment for Junior here and I've got a cab waiting."

Bucky let Steve walk Tony to the door and lock up after him, sitting down and grabbing Steve's sketch book. "You've gotten better," he said once he heard the door lock.

Steve made an aggravated sound. "You know I don't like people looking at my unfinished stuff," he said. He took his seat and held out his hand for his book.

"Still don't like cameras?" Bucky asked, handing the book back over.

Steve took the book and set it down in front of him, studying the drawing for a moment. "Not really," he said. "Besides, what would I do with my time if I just took photos instead of drawing what I want to remember? And I'd fall out of practice."

Bucky tilted his head, studying the open book. It looked like the previous ten, maybe fifteen pages were already used. "What else you got in there?"

"Mostly just stuff from the last year," Steve said. "Like the look on Tony's face when you stabbed his food." He smiled in amusement, glancing over at Bucky. "Which was hilarious, but don't ever do it again."

"Eh, I was in a bad mood that day," Bucky said with a weak shrug.

"I know," Steve said, flipping back through a few pages in a way that kept Bucky from seeing what was on them. He stopped at a page, opening to it properly and handing it over to Bucky. "That's another reason I prefer drawing. If I had a camera, I'd never be part of the things I want to remember."

Bucky studied the picture Steve had handed to him. It was of them playing putt putt in Ohio the previous year, with Bucky looking annoyed and Steve laughing his dumb butt off in the background. "I see you captured my desire to do horrible things to you," he said. "And you got your jackass smile right." He handed the book back. "What about things before I came home?"

Steve set the sketch book down before motioning to the bookcase. "Got another one up there. About half of it is stuff I remembered from the old days, the other half is the other Avengers and SHIELD agents I worked with." He went quiet a moment, looking up at the shelves. "Wish I could find some of the stuff from before I enlisted. I don't have anything of Mom and I can't remember what she looked like to draw anything new."

As that sank in, Bucky realized he couldn't clearly remember what his parents or siblings looked like, either. He could describe them in general terms, and there were things he remembered clearly, like Rebecca's smile, and the smell of his mother's perfume, but thinking about it, just like Steve, that part of his life was disappearing. He folded his hands on the table, studying them silently.

He looked up when he heard the pages in Steve's book flipping. Steve had opened back up to his in-progress work, and was studying it like it should be finishing itself and he wasn't sure why it wasn't. After the clock had ticked away a handful of seconds, Steve looked over at Bucky. "We're old," he said in a conversational tone that belied just how alone that made them.

Bucky snorted. "And yet, they won't give us the senior citizen's discount at the grocery store."

"At least we get the vet's discount," Steve said with a half-hearted smile. "You miss her already."

"Wha- oh. Christ, Steve, you're the one that brought down the mood by talking about your mom. She's just a cat."

"That doesn't change that I'm right," Steve said. "And you acted younger yesterday with her. It was a little like when you had your first apartment. You had that cat, and he followed you everywhere."

Bucky laughed. "I made the mistake of letting my niece name him. Kitty was the most boring cat name ever."

"It's not like they answer to their names anyway," Steve said.

"You'd be surprised," Bucky said. "Although I sincerely hope that 'Tony Junior' never answers to that name ever. What a stupid name."

"It's Tony," Steve said with a dismissive shrug. "But seriously, Bucky, we can get a cat, if you want. One that's not sick so we can afford to leave her with Sam while we're gone."

Bucky shook his head. "Naw. I'd worry too much anyway. Which is one of many reasons I will never have children. I would spend every school day worrying that they'll trip and bust an ankle or something."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You know, thinking back, you're right, I'm going to agree that you'd make a terrible father on that principle alone. You're overbearing."

"I had you and three younger siblings who liked to find trouble. You all tried to turn me gray by the time I hit sixteen."

"Would've made it hard to find a girl," Steve said. "Unless you found someone who liked mature-looking men. Emphasis on 'looking'."

Bucky glared at Steve. "Steve? There is a pencil within my reach and your hand is on the table. Unless you want that hand pinned there like a butterfly, I suggest you reconsider anything else you want to say."

Steve grabbed his pencil and set it on the other side of the table from Bucky, giving Bucky a dirty look. "If you're going to threaten my person, don't involve my drawing pencils."

"Good to see where your priorities lie," Bucky said, grabbing his tablet with one hand and waving Steve off with the other. "Get back to your doodling, I'm going to find something less depressing than the Vietnam War to read about."

"You're not hungry?" Steve asked.

Bucky glanced up at him as his tablet rebooted. "Not really? Not enough to go out to Mama's, if that's what you meant."

Steve tilted his head slightly. "You're usually not one to turn down a chance to get to see her."

Bucky shrugged. "I'm not that hungry. If you want to make something, I won't turn it down, but no, not really wanting to go out." He glared at his tablet as he loaded up the e-reader. "Harry Potter. My nemesis. We meet again." He looked at Steve, who was looking at him as if he'd lost his damn mind. "You know, I'm starting to root for Voldemort."

Steve was very clearly trying not to laugh or even smile in amusement. "If you say so, Bucky."

One came and went, and Steve finally made Bucky help him with lunch; if Bucky were honest, by that point he was ready for food and a break from that stupid Goblet of Fire. After lunch and clean up, more time passed. Steve was a perfectionist with his art, and could spend hours on one piece, cleaning up all the fine details. Bucky would occasionally glance over to watch, and Steve never failed to notice and would stop and stare pointedly at Bucky until Bucky stopped giving him an audience.

At about six, Bucky decided that the Vietnam War would be a more entertaining subject to read about and went back to Wikipedia. Seven hit, and they decided that dinner had been put off long enough. By eight thirty, the kitchen had been restored to its pre-dinner mess state and Bucky reluctantly went back to the Harry Potter book.

To Bucky's relief, Steve's computer pinged after about fifteen minutes of struggling through another chapter of that awful book. Steve looked over, pulling his laptop over to look at the screen. "It's a call from Pepper." He moved his sketch book and pencils out of the way and put his laptop in front of him at a slight angle so Bucky could see the screen before hitting answer. Bucky still had to get out of his chair and hang over Steve's shoulder.

Pepper's face appeared on the screen, and her face was lit up like a million watt bulb, Tony Junior perched carefully on her shoulder. "You guys are the best," Pepper said before either Steve or Bucky could say anything in greeting. "She's adorable, and so friendly." Pepper looked over at the kitten. "You're a darling, aren't you, Junior?"

"That's _Tony Stark Junior_!" Tony's voice came from the background somewhere.

Pepper shook her head slightly with the look of a woman who was in charge and only humoring the man in the family. Bucky had seen his mother give that look to his father a lot growing up. "But seriously, she's very loving. The vet checked her out as healthy aside from the FIV, and she's officially a registered member of the Stark and Potts household. I just wanted to let you guys know that she got here safely, she's healthy and she's happy."

Bucky smiled, watching Junior trying to lean forward towards the computer without falling off Pepper's shoulder. "She'll walk on your keyboard if you're not careful," he told her.

Pepper reached up and plucked Junior off her shoulder and held the kitten up to the screen. "See, Junior? It's just a picture." Junior pawed at the screen a moment before Pepper pulled her back to cuddle the kitten against her chest. "I know. Tony has already locked down the basement with about five more levels of anti-cat security to protect his electronic babies."

"I'm surprised he hasn't already plotted an Iron Man suit for her," Steve said.

Pepper scoffed. "Maybe when she hits full size and won't grow out of it in a month. He's got to warm up to the idea. And he will. She's charming, and he likes charming. It reminds him of himself. Give her a month, he'll be fussier about her than I am."

"I will not!" Tony's voice came from off-screen again.

"We believe that, too," Steve said.

Pepper shot an affectionately exasperated look somewhere off-camera. "Tony, how can you say that about this precious little thing?"

There was the sound of footsteps, then Tony's face moved in front of Pepper's in the camera view. "I still hate you two," he said, then glanced back and straightened. After a moment, he gave Junior's ears a half-hearted rub before turning to walk away.

"See? He's already giving in," Pepper said.

"I am not," Tony said, disappearing off-screen again.

Pepper covered her mouth with one hand, although it barely hid the smile. She watched in the direction Tony went for a moment, then turned back to the camera. "I mostly wanted to let you know she's safe and sound, and to say thank you. She's adorable, and so loving. I've wanted a pet for awhile, but with everything that's gone on the last few years, it wasn't really feasible. So thank you. I mean that."

Steve inclined his head in Bucky's direction. "Thank him. He was the one that decided we weren't giving her to a shelter."

Pepper looked mock-surprised. "The heartless Winter Soldier, going soft for a kitten? No!"

While Steve started laughing, Bucky heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, Steve, shut up. Yes, I like animals. This should not be cause for shock here."

Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, which he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't seen Steve's hand out of the corner of his eye. Steve sometimes forgot that Bucky's left shoulder couldn't feel anything anymore. Bucky gave him a dirty look.

Pepper smiled warmly. "Give yourself more credit, Bucky," she said. "But I'll stop putting you on the spot. It's this little missy's dinner time. Again, thank you." She lifted one of Junior's front paws and waved it at the camera. "Say bye-bye, Junior." Junior licked Pepper's hand, but didn't seem to understand that she was supposed to be looking at the camera. Pepper let go of Junior's paw and reached over towards her computer. "Night, guys." Then she hung up.

Bucky sat back down in his chair while Steve moved his laptop to the side again. Bucky stretched, popping his upper back in the process.

"I heard that," Steve said.

"Yeah, you also hear my right shoulder pop a lot, you comment on that, too," Bucky said.

"Only out of jealousy," Steve said, pulling his drawing supplies back to him. He looked over at Bucky. "You look like you feel better."

That came out of left field. Bucky gave Steve a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"You've been tense since Tony left," Steve said. "You're not anymore."

"Oh." Bucky looked down at his tablet. "Yeah, I guess. It's nice to know she's in good hands."

Steve went back to his drawing. "Told you that you were a marshmallow, Bucky."

"Say that again, and I'm going to visit great pain upon your person."

Steve didn't reply beyond a chuckle. Bucky watched him suspiciously for a moment, half-expecting Steve to try to blind side him with something. After deciding Steve was probably going to behave, Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the food and water bowls that were still sitting just inside the kitchen. They'd have to dump out the box and take the bowls and leftover litter to a shelter tomorrow. As far as Bucky was concerned, that was the best twenty bucks they ever spent.

Feeling better than he had that afternoon, Bucky decided to ruin his good mood by going back to Harry Potter.


End file.
